


Love Potion No. JaNine

by IamJohnLocked4life



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Animal Sacrifice, Animal Transformation, Espionage Girlfriends, Established Relationship, F/F, Janine Moriarty - Freeform, Magic, Mary Moran - Freeform, Orgy, Self-cest, Sex Magic, Witchcraft, it's not gruesome, very quick and painless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamJohnLocked4life/pseuds/IamJohnLocked4life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sometimes I wish there were two of you, you know?"</p><p>Be careful what you wish for!</p><p>Basically an excuse to create the JaNine tag on AO3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Potion No. JaNine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cakepopsforeveryone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakepopsforeveryone/gifts).



> Based on a tumblr prompt from [cakepopsforeveryone](http://cakepopsforeveryone.tumblr.com/), who wanted JaNine...yeah, it's exactly what it sounds like. Enjoy!

Mary is just lighting an aromatherapy candle when she hears the familiar jangle of keys and click of the lock. Perfect timing. The music is playing low and sultry-sweet, the bedside lamp is dimmed with a dusky rose scarf, and the wine is chilling in an ice bucket next to the bed.

“Mary?”

“In here, love!”

Mary quickly arranges herself on the bed, facing the door. She checks her bra straps one last time, scooping her breasts up and pressing them together, putting her new push-up bra to its fullest use. Crossing her legs, she points her toes and props herself up on one elbow. She slides the hem of her silk teddy higher up her thighs, revealing the lush swell of her arse just a bit more.

“Why are all the lights out in the flat? I nearly knocked over the side table, still managed to stub my toe a bit.”

“Come and see.”

Janine comes into the doorway, hopping on one foot as she eases the other out of a four-inch pump, still frowning back at the offending piece of furniture in the hall.

“Bloody useless thing, barely holds the keys and lamp, and when _that_ isn’t even on what’s the— ”

She finally looks up and freezes, steadying herself with a hand to the doorframe as she teeters on one heel. The other shoe clatters to the floor.

“Damn.”

“Not quite the reaction I was hoping for,” Mary teases. “Unless you meant, _Damn I can’t wait to get into bed with that!_ ”

“Sorry, sorry.” Janine heel-toes out of her other pump and comes into the room, wincing slightly as she walks. Her hair has gone frizzy and her eyes look tired and there’s a smudge of mascara on her cheek, and still she’s easily the most beautiful thing Mary has ever seen. “It’s just been a really long day.”

Mary pats the bed next to her. “Tell us about it.”

“Ugh, where to start?” Janine slumps down on the edge of the bed. “I know our field attracts some less than savoury types, but is basic competence too much to ask for? How Jim managed not to off the whole Hackney contingent, I’ll never know.” She rubs her fingertips over her temples and sighs. “He always did have a taste for the rougher side of things.”

“And a bit of rough on the side,” Mary says with a wink.

Janine attempts a half-hearted chuckle, but it comes out more of a weary sigh.

“I know what will help, love.” Mary sidles up to Janine’s hunched form, kneeling behind her on splayed thighs, her gossamer slip riding higher as she settles back on her haunches. “Just try to relax.” She slides her thumbs along Janine’s neck, a gentle touch at first that increases in pressure with every successive sweep. Down, out, down, out, following the lines of tension across shoulders and back, chasing away knots and easing stiff muscles. She can feel Janine softening by increments, slowly melting under her hands. Her head lolls forward and her spine goes limp.

“Mmmm, that feels good.”

Mary leans close, letting her lips brush Janine’s neck and tickle at her ear. “Mmmm, _you_ feel good.” She nuzzles behind her ear, breathes hotly just under the lobe, then traces the shell with her tongue. “Taste good too.” Janine gives a hum of acknowledgement, but without the usual gasp or moan of pleasure. _Damn_.

“Why don’t we get you out of these stiff clothes?” Janine nods her assent, but doesn’t move. “Here, allow me.” Mary reaches around to unbutton her blazer and slips it off her shoulders, letting her fingers linger on the silky blouse underneath. She explores the long stretch from wrists to neck, relishing the slick slide of fabric over skin. Her hands glide across Janine’s chest to meet again in the middle, but pause at the buttons, unable to resist the urge to fondle those perfect breasts through the thin gauzy barrier. She finds herself frequently distracted by Janine’s breasts, and tonight is no exception. Her fingertips trace their fullness, cupping and stroking and teasing. Janine leans back against her, though it’s an uncoordinated collapse rather than a desperate arch into touch. Mary tamps down her disappointment and continues her task of divesting her lover of clothing. It’s clear the day was more than a little stressful, and she knows that casting off the physical reminders of whatever hell she had to endure will go a long way to relieving the pressure. Janine is never more fully herself, the woman Mary loves with every fibre of her being, than when they are pressed together, skin to skin. The sooner they can do that again, the better.

Blouse and bra quickly join the blazer on the floor, and Mary pulls Janine back onto the bed to help her shimmy out of her pencil skirt. Slowly, reverently, Mary peels off the control top sheer pantyhose, freeing Janine’s lovely curves, the softness of her belly and the wide spread of her thighs. When she reaches her feet, she gives each toe a quick kiss as they’re revealed, and balls the stretched-out nylon up into a deflated lump at the foot of the bed. At last, she allows her gaze to travel up the body spread out before her, already looking beyond debauched with ragdoll weariness. Janine’s eyes are closed, lashes casting grains of mascara on her bronze cheeks. Mary slides up the bed to meet her, fitting her body along Janine’s side. She licks her thumb and rubs away the smudge of black from her cheekbone.

“God, you're gorgeous. I miss you when you're away so long.” Janine smiles faintly, eyes still shut, and turns to curl into Mary’s arms. Mary strokes her hair, letting her nails gently scrape Janine’s scalp.

“Sometimes I wish there were two of you, you know? One to run the business, mastermind the operations and coordinate our mad escapades, and another to be here when I come home.

“And one for weekends and holidays too?”

“Well, I'd never say no to more of this!” She grabs a healthy handful of arse and gives a squeeze. Janine giggles and burrows into Mary's neck.

“I'm sorry, luv, but I really am just wrung out. Rain check? I promise I'll make it up to you.”

Mary makes a small noise of defeat, but slips her arms up around Janine's waist and pulls her into a full-body cuddle. She strokes her hands soothingly up and down Janine's back, and Janine gives a contented sigh. Soon, she's fast asleep.

Mary unwinds an arm to flick off the bedside lamp, and silences the music with the press of a button. She brings the lone candle to her lips to puff it out before settling back into Janine's unconscious embrace. Another night, perhaps.

———

"Bye love, have a good day!"

Janine waits until the lock clicks, counts to ten, then hurries to the bedroom. She lifts her bedside table and deposits it a few paces away, careful not to let it scrape the floor. With the tip of one expertly manicured finger, she traces the familiar rune on the floorboards, muttering _“revelaros”_ three times under her breath. The wood shimmers and a small semi-circular notch appears, like the sliver of a waning moon. Janine slips her fingernail into the divot and pulls, and a one foot square section of flooring hinges open, creaking with disuse. She reaches into the dark hole, first extracting a large drawstring bag of black velvet and setting it aside before reverently lifting out a thick leather-bound book. Its cover is adorned with gilt edges and embossed symbols, an elaborate metalwork sigil embedded in its centre. The leather is worn, the paper long-since gone ochre and fragile at the edges, but otherwise the book is in remarkable condition, given its centuries of age.

Sitting back on her haunches, Janine peruses the bound sheaves, fingertips dancing lightly through the flutter of pages. Elegant script in ebony ink covers each sheet, adorned with coloured illustrations and gold leaf. The artful skill, attention to detail, and exquisite beauty resembles an illuminated manuscript, in appearance if not content.

"Aha!" Janine smiles and pulls the thick satin ribbon from the binding to mark the spot. She closes the small hatch, whispers _"consecressa"_ and precisely repositions the bedside table over the sealed space. Book and velvet sack in hand, she heads to the en suite. She sets the bag on the closed toilet, and flips to the marked page in the thick tome. Skimming down the ingredients list, she lays the book open on the counter and rummages under the sink until she finds the clipping shears they keep for emergency identity alterations. Never know when one might need a quick cut and dye job in their line of work.

With a glance in the mirror, she pulls a section of hair from underneath the mass of dark brown waves, just above her nape, easily concealed. She pinches the tips between thumb and forefinger and _snip!_ A single dark ringlet curls around her clasped fingers. She sets down the clippers and reaches under her parted robe, extracting an ivory amulet hung on a leather cord round her neck. It's carved in the shape of a fertility goddess, all smooth curves and wide hips. She presses at the v between the sculpture's legs, and the head pops open, hinging at the neck. Janine drops the lock of hair into the hollow figure, careful not to lose a single strand, then seals the amulet again.

Humming happily to herself, she turns on the taps of the large claw foot tub, and rummages in her bag for a piece of white chalk, five smooth black pebbles, and five white pillar candles. She sets them around her in a ring, alternating wax and stone, then connects each candle with the chalk, forming a perfect five-pointed star. She encloses the pentagram with a circle and twice inscribes the space inside with an ancient symbol of the sacred feminine, mirrored at the centre.

Janine stands and dusts off her hands, admiring her work. She slips the chalk back in the bag, pulls out three vials, and sets them on the countertop. Almost ready. She grabs the box of matches and lights the incense they keep on the back of the toilet, and the sweet earthy scent of sandalwood fills the air. With a flick of the switch and the strike of a match, the room is cast into near darkness. She kneels by the markings on the floor and lights the candles as she begins to chant.

_"Spark of life, fire's flame  
By your light these forces tame."_

She retrieves a bundle of herbs from the velvet sack, and lights the well-charred end from the candle at the apex of the star. A cloud of smoke blooms from the stub, and the heady aroma of sage mingles with the sandalwood. She sweeps it around the circle three times.

 _"Our Mother's verdant bosom fair_  
_From Her fertile soil all life is birth'd_  
_Fire transfigures plant to air_  
_On wings of smoke bridge heaven and earth."_

She drops the sage into the tub with a hiss, and turns off the taps. The moist heat from the bath fills the small room, fogging the mirror and beading at Janine's nape. Her silk robe clings to her body, and strands of hair stick to her cheeks. She wipes away the sweat forming at her brow and turns back to the open book on the counter.

"Law of equivalent exchange… damn, where's that stupid cat?"

She pops her head out the door and whistles.

"Dayyyyyvid, come ahhhhhhh-on! Come out to plaaa-ayyyy!" She makes some kiss-y noises, and a calico cat appears at the door. "That's a good boy." She scoops him up and carries him into the centre of the chalk rune. "Mary's always had such awful taste in pets," she coos as she strokes his head. "Not even a proper black cat." She sighs. "She won't be happy you've run off, but I'll make it up to her with something much better." A smirk plays at her lips as she lifts the calico over the steaming tub.

 _"As this sacred spark ignites_  
_All of life in death unites_  
_Mother Father Sister Brother_  
_Pass this soul into another."_

She drops the cat into the water with a splash and the surface churns, dark and thick and cloudy, before settling to a deep, clear aquamarine. There is no sign of the feline. Janine grins. If only all her body disposals could be this clean. She picks up the vials from the counter and pours each in turn, the waters transmuting with each addition, green to gold to violet.

 _"Given by our Creator's hand_  
_Salt from sea and sand from land_  
_Downy feather from bird's first flight_  
_Water, earth, and air unite."_

She tosses the empty vials aside and steps back into the ring of candlelight. She lifts the amulet from her chest, passing the cord over her head as she raises the figurine high.

 _"Pentagram in a ring of stone_  
_Lock of tresses in a vessel of bone_  
_Goddess Mother this off'ring take_  
_New life in thine image make."_

She casts the necklace into the bath and bubbles erupt across the surface, soon filling the tub. The water roils, steam growing thick and crimson before fading to light pink. The candles flicker then flare, and the room takes on a rosy sunset glow. Janine unties her sash and lets her robe fall to the floor. She steps out of the pooled silk and into the soft foam already spilling over the rim of the tub.

 _"Water of life, give your power_  
_Take shape and essence from mine own_  
_Let spirit blossom like a flower_  
_And fill the form in flesh and bone."_

As she chants, Janine slowly lowers herself down into the steaming water, submerging until only her face remains above the bubbling surface. She closes her eyes and whispers, "Blessed be," and sinks beneath the foamy veil. The waters boil and hiss, then suddenly still. For a long moment, the surface is flat and placid as new fallen snow.

The calm is shattered by a harsh gasp as Janine surges up, gulping in air and blinking away tears. She weakly pushes herself to stand and clambers out of the tub. The chalk lines have vanished, but she stands in the centre of where they once lay, and waits.

The waters simmer, bubbles multiplying at a frenetic pace, before stilling once more. A dark, sleek head emerges from the frothy depths. Janine holds her breath.

Slowly, the figure rises, buttery caramel skin revealed inch-by-inch, covered in creamy white lather. Suds cling to every curve, collect under full breasts in soft dollops of foam, slide over taut skin and slip down smooth, sloping hips. She’s perfect and whole and alive. She turns to Janine and opens wide almond eyes, blinks up through thick dark lashes. A wicked smile curves her lips.

“Hello, beautiful,” she purrs, rich as Irish cream. “I’m Janine.”

Janine exhales, relief flooding her body. It worked.

“Hi Janine, I’m…uh, Janine.” She flashes a friendly grin, and offers a tentative hand. The woman (other Janine? Janine 2?) chuckles, a warm rumble that matches the velvet of her voice, and steps out of the tub. No, _slinks_. Her body moves with a hypnotic rhythm, hips and shoulders oscillating in erotic counterpoint, and Janine can’t keep her eyes from roving up and down her naked form. Her fingers twine with Janine’s, not her right hand but her left, mirroring the gesture… then slide up Janine’s wrist, her arm, her neck. Suddenly she’s right there, staring into Janine’s eyes, chocolate amber grown dark with lust.

“I know.” And then her mouth is pressed against Janine’s, fragrant and sweet. Janine is so startled she freezes, lets moist plush lips brush her own. When the curl of a tongue slips into her stunned mouth, Janine comes to her senses and pulls back.

“What— what are you doing?”

“Mmmm, just enjoying the pleasure of my company. We were made for pleasure, after all.”

“We?”

There’s a quiet splash, but Janine is quickly distracted by slender fingers stroking up and down her arms and intense, penetrating eyes locked on her own.

“Don’t you want to feel good?” She stalks closer, into Janine’s space. Her breasts meet Janine’s with a graze of erect nipples, and to her embarrassment Janine can feel her own responding in kind. Soft hands travel across her shoulders, down her back, around her waist, gliding over wet skin. One hand settles at the small of her back, another creeping lower to squeeze her arse, another sliding up to cup her right breast.

_Wait, what?!!_

Janine startles again, and an all-too-familiar voice lilts behind her, close to her ear.

“Relax, darlin’. We’ll take good care of you.”

Janine looks over her shoulder to see another set of deep brown eyes gazing back at her, just as another hand closes around her left breast in a gentle caress. Her mouth falls open, head yo-yoing back and forth between the Janine at her front and the Janine at her rear. Pressed tightly to her rear, in fact, and now licking up the length of her neck. _Fuck_.

“But… but there’s two of you… how…”

She loses her train of thought again when clever fingers tweak her nipples, causing her to arch back into the touch against her will. Christ, just like that, just the way she likes it, a nip to the neck, a squeeze of the arse, and that relentless alternation between tender touch and firm stimulation of the breasts. She can feel her body rocking back and forth between the two women, seeking more friction and meeting slippery wet skin.

Laughter tinkles like crystal through the small washroom, too distant to come from the hot bodies surrounding her own, and Janine breaks away with a gasp, managing to escape their alluring embrace. What she sees makes her back up against the wall, cool tile grounding her, asserting reality, despite her desperate wishes to the contrary.

Striding towards her through the thick steam: two more naked doppelgangers, dripping with water and foam and sex. Matching lust-filled eyes and lascivious grins, arms linked, hips swaying, coming perilously closer. Janine edges toward the door, fumbling behind her back for the knob as all five clones —  _five?!!_  — converge upon her.

"What's wrong, love?" "Don't you want us?" "We were made for you." "We're all yours." Identical voices come from all directions, overlap and whisper and croon as fifty graceful fingers —  _good god!_  — reach for her. Her hand finally finds the doorknob, slippery with sweat. She tightens her grip and twists it free, and just manages to glimpse two more figures rising from the tub, locked in a rather explicit embrace, before flinging herself out the door. She slams it behind her, grateful for the reprieve from the stifling heat. What the _hell_ is going on?

The doorknob starts to turn and Janine backs away from the door, shaking her head as if to clear it. There was only supposed to be one! Her calves hit the bed just as the door opens, and Janine collapses in utter shock as the women pour out of the en suite, one after another, their naked forms perfectly framed in a cloud of pink steam. Four… five… six… and still they keep coming, filling the cosy bedroom until it feels positively cramped.

"How…how many of you…us…are there?" Her voice wavers, almost afraid of the answer… afraid there will be no end to the bodies spilling into the room. Effervescent laughter erupts like champagne bubbles in the air, surrounding her in mirth.

"Oh honey, surely we're clever enough to figure it out." The closest Janine prowls toward the bed, and Janine meekly scrambles back, kicking up the duvet. Another voice from the bathroom calls, "Don't start without me!" causing a fresh round of giggles. Janine's eyes go wide as she tries to think.

"I just wanted one, for Mary. Why are there so many?"

"Felix felicitas, lucky little witch," comes a murmur from her left.

"Feline felicitas, clever little witch," a whisper from the right.

Janine blinks. "Feline… you mean the cat?"

"Equivalent exchange, a life for a life." The sultry voice is at her ear, accented with hot breath and nibbling lips.

"Nine lives…" from across the room.

"For nine lives," whispers Janine, trembling with horror and shock.

A warm, wet hand strokes up her thigh. "Knew you'd figure it out." Another slides down her arm, while a third cups her cheek. Janine falls back on the bed, unable to resist the persistent onslaught of caressing fingertips, tenderly exploring her body. The world blurs into a dark golden haze, lust and confusion blending into a beautiful cacophony of sound and touch and taste. There are lips at each nipple and tongues at her toes and fingers between her legs, slender and slick and probing. Janine arches off the mattress, simultaneously seeking escape and more, _oh god, more_. Everything is hot and wet and unbearably dirty, and she can't tell what's finger or tongue or some other slippery body part sliding against her skin. There are breasts pressed on her shins and her stomach and her face, soft and full and heavy, pressing, _pressing_ , and suddenly she can't breathe but the breasts keep coming, weighing on her chest, covering her body, her eyes, her mouth…

———

Mary wakes with a gasp. For a desperate moment she gulps in panicked gusts of air, still feeling the claustrophobic pressure of flesh surrounding her, closing in on all sides. A quiet grunt draws her back to reality, and she looks down to see Janine lying next to her, sprawled on her back with an arm wrapped around Mary's waist.

Mary watches her shift in her sleep, eyelids fluttering, brow slightly furrowed, and she's so damn beautiful it almost hurts. Mary tucks a stray lock behind Janine's ear, letting her thumb caress her perfect, singular face. While the idea might be nice in theory, one Janine is more than enough for her.

"Whuzza matter?" Janine blinks up at her, bleary-eyed and muzzy with sleep.

"Nothing, love. Just a dream. Go back to sleep."

"Want you." Janine tightens the arm at her waist, and Mary allows herself to be pulled back down. She settles her head on Janine’s soft ample breasts — just one pair, thank you very much — and nuzzles in. She inhales Janine's scent, warm and familiar, and sighs with contentment. Already she can feel her heart rate slowing, her breath evening out, matching Janine's steady rhythm. Soon, she's drifted back to sleep; she doesn’t notice Janine plucking a blonde strand of hair and dropping it into the carved ivory amulet around her neck.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to cakepopsforeveryone for the challenge, feeding my Janine thirst and inspiring me to write this madness, and a BIG thank you to my Camp Nano crew ~ justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic) & CatieBrie, you are an inspiration, always ♥
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://iamjohnlocked4life.tumblr.com/) ~ Please say hi, I love to chat!


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